


Midnight Special

by Tyranno



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, fear toxin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyranno/pseuds/Tyranno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No man can outrun fear forever--even if he <i>is</i> the fastest one alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm, another fic I'm kindof writing on a whim, so may be dropped at a moment's notice. Sorry!
> 
> The summary took me a long time to write, so sorry if it's a bit cheesy. It will be pretty short chapters as well, with usually only a scene per chapter. I've always written long chapters and I wanna spice things up a little. And I confess--I'm a relatively new fan of Flash, so let me know if my characterisation is off.
> 
> You don't have to know aout Jonathan Crane before reading, he will be introduced like a new character. I hope y'all enjoy him!

It was a cold, bright night.

The sky was layered in clouds that purpled like a bruise along the horizon, breaking in patches to reveal the gathering dusk. The air was brisk with the promise of winter, and silent while the Flash slowed to a halt.

“Nothing,” Barry mumbled into his receiver, tone somewhere between relieved and reluctant, “Looks like I can take an early night for once.”

“ _Looks like._ ” Cisco said in his ear with a sharp crackle of keys, “ _There's nothing on the Police Radar either._ ”

Barry sighed and looked out across the dark water. Near the horizon, the bay reflected the city lights in dips of brilliant yellow and white, the air salted with the briny, raw smell of the ocean. The whole week had been the quietest since they had come back from Earth 2. It seemed like things had finally been settling down.

A small, flickering green light caught his attention. It was a little black box attached to the top corner of an old warehouse on the edge of the docks, one that was supposed to be disused. Barry padded a little closer to the old warehouse.

The warehouses around this area were usually hired out for storing building supplies, but these ones were really, really old, the tough corrugated iron was missing its edges, bumpy and uneven like toothmarks. The bald patches where the paint had peeled away were streaked with dark red rust, the metal bulging from years of erosion on the seafront. Someday the owner would appear to have it torn down and replaced, but for now it sat hunched in on itself, metal weakening.

The green light blinked down at him. Who puts hidden cameras on a rust bucket?

Barry felt an acute moment of indecision. He couldn't be seen breaking into any old building that looked suspicious.

He moved a little closer, almost brushed off his suspicion but then--

Then he noticed the smell. It was a heavy, almost fruity smell of rotting garbage that seemed to press against the back of his eyeballs. He gagged, hand flying up to hold his nose.

Barry's eyes were drawn to a sliver of white and his blood ran cold.

It was a hand. Perfectly still, pearl white hand, barely visible under the uneven warehouse door. The fingers curled lightly, fingernails and palms tinged a soft blue, veins stark green like vines clutching an ivory tower. The hands of a corpse.

For a moment, Barry was motionless. For a moment, he was eleven again, standing on a blood stained carpet.

He took a few steps forwards, and the moonlight caught a ruby-red pool of blood. He moved closer, and the hand was in front of a face, pupils like a black hole, still eyes rimmed red and shinning.

Barry's shaking hand found the door's edge and his fingers locked around it. He should call the police. He was way, _way_ out of his depth here, he couldn't afford to mess things up for the investigators. He still had Cisco on the comm, could still here the faint crackle of keys and paper being stacked.

All he had to do was ask. A few words. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

" _Flash?_ " Cisco asked, but Barry couldn't here him over the pounding of his heart. " _Hey, Flash are you in there? Is there something you can see that we can't? Hello?_ "

Barry locked eyes with the corpse. This close, he could see her tangled, russet hair, thick with seaweed. Her eyes showed more fear than he could understand--her blue lips trembled as they moved, shaking as they mouthed-- _help me. help me_.

Barry's hands shook as he struggled for a grip on the icy metal, pulling it, throwing it open.

The stench hit him full force.

It was almost something physical, slapping him across the face. It was foul, revolting, he felt his stomach flip and lurch--the rotting smell was unbearably strong and suddenly _he_ felt disgusting. He felt his skin grow heavy with a layer of pungent grime, his suit trapped layers of sewage water, he could feel it rotting him, corrupting him.

Barry gagged and opened his eyes a sliver.

The corpse was gone, and in her place--

\--in her place--

\-- _it_ was the size of a rhino, covered with thick oil, the head of a wolf watched him through bleeding red eyes. The fur was patchy and matted with oil and blood, and stunk unbearably. Somewhere in the folds of crusted skin, he saw a pulse.

Fear lanced through Barry's spine, sharp and sudden. Something old and primal in him told him to run, to make himself small but another part of him froze his limbs, his lungs, leaving nothing but a pounding, relentless heartbeat.

The thing raised its misshapen head, a drop of blood rolling across its ugly snout. It lunged for him.

Barry ran.

The docks blended together, a smear of black water and city lights. He could hear the thing running behind him, claws slicing up the pavement and sending chunks of cement crashing behind it, colliding with trees, cars, buildings.

Fear prickled in the back of his neck, tingling his skull. Blood thundered through his ears, nauseous terror dragging at his chest. Barry's skull rattled with the same thought, over and over and over. _I'm going to die. I'm going to die._

There was a ripping sound behind him, and he had to look, he _had_ to--

The thing evaporated in a cloud of foul shadow and all that was left was a thin, pale, pathetic thing.

The corpse. His mother.

Her head turned towards him, lolled on a weak neck. Her eyes were sunken, dull, her gaze unfocused.

Her body was thin and skeletal, and she dragged herself forward. Her hands scraped bloody on the ruined cement. She dragged herself forward.

Barry stumbled back, towards the water.

She dragged herself forward. Her chest was a brilliant red, ribs split open like a melon. Her lungs shone wetly in the moonlight.

Barry backed away. Fear clawed at his chest with icy fingers.

She dragged herself forward. Her mouth was scarlet like a fresh wound, that and her chest were the only colour on her lifeless body.

Barry felt the boards of the peer under his feet. They whined under his shaking steps.

His mother crawled forward. As he watched, she seemed to wither, skin yellowing and bone surfacing.

Barry stepped back, boards creaking dangerously.

His mother's mouth was the same gaping red as her skull broke through her skin.

There was a terrible crash of breaking wood, and his scream dragged in salt water. 


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm going to need to check your pupils, Barry," Caitlin said, keeping her voice soothing. She reached out to Barry and he flinched back. She set the towels and clipboard she was holding down and showed him her empty hands. He watched her warily.

It had been ten minutes since Barry had been fished out of the bay and examining him hadn't gotten any easier, although his shaking had gone down to normal human speed. Barry's immune system might have destroyed whatever drug he had been doused with, but what he had seen under its influence must have left its mark...

Caitlyn inched closer, palms raised like she was calming a flighty horse. Barry stilled, eyes wide and shinning. She shone a light into his eyes and he managed to stay still long enough for his pupils to dilate.

"Alright," She said, taking a few steps away and watching Barry visibly relax. She turned and glanced back at the gaggle of people, "Joe, you can take him home now. The drug's probably gone, but be careful. Call the hospital if anything happens."

Joe nodded and helped Barry to his feet. Barry's legs shook like a newborn fawn.

Cisco hovered at Caitlyn's shoulder, waiting for the taillights of Joe's car turn around the corner. Without Barry, the docks felt empty and cold.

"What about the rest of the gas?" She asked, turning towards him.

"Dispersed. The tanker was probably leaking for years--there were a few reports of plagues of bad dreams around here, but I just assumed it was a slow news day or something," Cisco said, tapping on his tablet, "It wasn't a trap."

Caitlyn nodded, vaguely, scooping her clipboard off the ground, "Who do you think could have done this?"

Cisco tapped at his tablet and passed it over. The screen filled with a photograph of a tall, frail man with a haunted look in his dark eyes. "They call him Scarecrow, real name Dr. Jonathan Crane. He's got a doctorate in psychology, developed a fear toxin that attacks the areas of the brain that deal with phobias."

"Is there an antidote?" Caitlyn asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"A few, actually; the Gotham police developed one for nearly every previous strain, but Crane keeps developing more," Cisco glanced up and saw her expression, "Don't worry. Barry's immune system is incredible. It only took him a little under three minutes to beat this one. He can do it."

"Cisco, listen to me," Caitlyn said, "I don't think Barry should take on the Scarecrow."

"What?" Cisco asked, "Why not?"

"You saw how it affected him as well as I did--I've never seen him that shaken up. He looked terrible!" Caitlyn snapped, "There's no way I can stand by and put him through that ever again. This is one we should leave to the police."

"But Barry could do it so much faster than the police!" Cisco said, "The Gotham police took _weeks_ to catch him last time."

"Then you can do it without me," Caitlyn said, voice icy. She tossed her clipboard at him and stalked out into the night. 


End file.
